A War

by Comma Typer

Safety

It was snowy. Very snowy. It was also windy. A gale, a howling snowstorm.

The yak let down the hanging fabric and, that way, closed the window.

Inside the hut, the yak saw its furnishings which consisted of a stately mat of various shapes and a table where many stacks of vanilla cakes stood with crudely-placed vanilla and cream on them.

He shivered, pulling his back's robe even closer.

"Lawrence!"

He shivered more.

The cloth that served as a door was lifted, revealing an enraged Rutherford all decked out with his large horns, bright robe, golden earrings and bracelets, and yellow earrings with hanging bells.

"Why yak stay away from duty?!" Rutherford shouted, each step forward shaking the floor. Even the cakes jumped, about to fall and spill.

Lawrence gulped. "Prince Rutherford! Yak was resting! Yak require great energy and not easy to get great energy!"

Rutherford snorted, facing up in a snooty way. "Yak knows you excuse!"

"But, what about very bad weather?"

"Yaks live in cold and bad weather for centuries. No good reason!"

Lawrence took some steps back, with Rutherford following suit.

Above the howl, a hoary roar of many yaks and a rushed march.

"Late yak is late!" Rutherford yelled, looking at the door. "Don't be later!"

He ran out the door.

Rutherford could feel the snowstorm at its full extent. The wind was forceful, about to push him over. His fur flapped and flailed. He squinted his eyes, gritted his teeth.

There was no dirt path to make of. Past the constant downpour of snow, he could see little of the huts mostly covered in white. Some had been obliterated, crumbled debris and hay that used to be walls and roofs.

Zips and zooms overhead; passing figures dropping others.

"Prince Rutherford!"

He turned around in the snow.

A yak in front of him. "Yaks need retreating immediately! Half of wall is gone. Many yaks captured!"

"What?!" Rutherford shouted, barely audible above the howl, grabbing his fellow yak and pulling him closer. "You dare say word 'retreating'?! Yaks live by honor! Fight or lose. No retreating!"

"But, Prince Rutherford think of yaks here!" the fellow yak shouted back, fearful.

"Yaks shall be full of honor," Rutherford said, planting a hoof on the snow-covered ground. Pointing at some direction: "Fight or lose!"

"Prince Rutherford, what about—"

"Fight or lose!"

Figures landed.

Their green eyes glowed.

Snowstorm went on, waving their manes and fur.

One unicorn charged up his horn, lighting up.

"Rutherford, no!"

Fired a beam.

Yak jumped in front.

Took the blow, sent flying out.

Rutherford bared his teeth, pawed the ground, eyeing those around him. "You hurt yak! You feel pain! Yak smash!"

---

"Lawrence!"

The yak, still shivering inside the hut, stood up and saw who it was outside.

"Yak made escape route!" the arrival yelled. "Come with we before too late!"

Lawrence glanced at the cakes.

"Yaks brought food! Go!"

And he dashed out.

They ran in the snowstorm, their fur hanging and swaying. Over snow mounds, past destroyed huts. Fights continued as more yaks fell to magical beams or to traps, yanked away from sight. Explosions, more ponies landing, more yaks running away.

Turned a left—an open space where used to be huts and a field, turned over and demolished.

Jumped over and galloped.

Past debris, past wreckage; the snowstorm swarming.

Hopped over a broken wall.

"Go!"

Kept on running, galloping forward on fields of nothing but white; mountains on their left and right, rumblings behind. The sky was gray, snow rushing down on them hard.

"You only yak escaping?" Lawrence shouted above the bellow as they sprinted.

"Me last escaping yak! Yaks meet up at Luna Bay!"

"Luna Bay is too far for running!"

"Me have food! We survive, we go to Luna Bay!"

And the two yaks ran on, disappearing from Yakyakistan's sight beyond the horizon.

---

They rested on a rocky field also covered in snow. A mat had been laid on the ground and on it were some wheat and corn with a few vanilla cakes, too. A campfire burned on beside them as the yaks sat, stretching their hooves out at it.

Around them were only mountains; the sky was blue once more but gray clouds loomed. Lightning streaks flashed.

"Is Seaborg sure of Luna Bay?" Lawrence asked.

"Yak sure of Luna Bay," Seaborg replied, nodding his head. "Yaks had secret talk yesterday. If things go bad, we go to Luna Bay and sail to Equestria to ask help from Princess." He then consumed a vanilla cake whole in one bite, his chewing loud and unclean.

"What city do yaks land?"

Seaborg made a thundering gulp. "Yellow Beach. Name of city."

Lawrence chowed down on the wheat and the corn and his vanilla cake, too.

Seaborg stamped on the fireplace, taking out the fire.

"We move!" Seaborg yelled.

---

By sunset, the yaks could see a village down the mountain slopes and at the bay.

Pine trees surrounded the small town. There, tiny wooden houses stood beside tiny wooden retail stores; one of them was a bait shop, as could be seen by the massive lettering on the roof that screamed "Bait Shop". On the shore, small harbors and wharfs; these held several ships both wooden and metal, some carrying only passengers while others carrying cargo and the like—all of this went on as ponies worked at the ports, moving and loading and unloading said cargo, directing more passengers and leading them to their places.

"Yaks said boat to Equestria begins here," Seaborg said as the two walked down the slope, avoiding jagged rocks and tall pine trees. "Me think it's about to go."

The yaks entered the town.

Stalls where ponies were selling fish hooks, bait, lines, sinkers, nets, and other equipment that made up fishing tackle; open canteens where ponies brought their pets as they feasted on fruits and vegetables while letting their pets eat the steamed or grilled fish; more ponies at the shore with their fishing rods, waiting patiently for any sudden movement—such was the kind of activity in that town.

Of course, there were armored guards patrolling the area, either walking or flying.

---

The yaks walked up the ramp.

Ramp was lifted.

"Finally!" Seaborg yelled. "Boat! Yaks safe and sound!"

The few ponies on the wharf waved their hooves.

The two yaks and several more waved back.

And the steamer was away, nothing but the blue sea before it.

A pony cleared his throat.

The yaks turned to him.

He was an aged captain; his white hat was a sign of his post. "I never thought it would come to this in my life," he said in a gravelly voice. "But, it's time that I put this to good use."

One yak pointed at him. "You pony Captain Ice Fiber?"

He nodded. "I'll be your captain for the trip to Yellow Beach." His eyes narrowed. "You're definitely and absolutely sure and certain that you're not being followed?"

"Correct!" the questioning yak answered.

The captain nodded again. "I reckon this is your first time on a boat. It's...not much other than the ocean. And the cabins. The engine room and the captain's deck are off-limits. That's the only rule, OK?"

The yaks nodded.

"If you need me, I'll be upstairs."

He walked his way around a corner and disappeared.

The yaks were alone, standing on solid floor. Around them was the vast sea, the fishing town a fading dot over there. The sky became ever more orange as the boat continued its path.

---

Inside a dark small cabin only lit up by rays of moonlight, the two beds were ridiculously small for the big yaks, resting on more than just the bed; the air beyond the bed, too, was their mattress as well. The cabinets and shelves and desks were less than a yak's length away from them.

The small windows gave them a peek, a glimpse, into the night sky with its moon shining above and beside the stars, the sea reflecting the expanse's silent elegance murky in the reflection with the ever-changing waves, yet, in that image whose canvas was practically infinite, the sky could be discerned from there.

"Me too warm," Lawrence spoke as he lay on his bed. "Where is snow when needed?"

He turned to see Seaborg who was sleeping soundly despite almost half of his body off the bed.

"Argh. Too bad yaks not have snow in bag."

Lawrence closed his eyes and snored.

---

At the break of dawn, land was sighted.

It was a flat piece of land, with plains of grass following the short shore. A few ports resided and some small houses and a tiny eatery, but nothing else was there.

However, many ponies in armor and other sorts of military uniform waited there, cheering as they saw the ship enter into view.

Each minute brought the ship closer to shore. At full stop, the ramp was laid down again and the yaks, in line, placed their hooves on firm concrete ground.

The yaks were pushed along by the ponies.

"Look, you've gotta get a train straight to the main network. After that, get yourselves to Canterlot as soon as possible. Talk with the Princesses; she'll know everything else."

"Yaks not agree to this!" another yak shouted before being pushed again back in line by the pony.

"You have to agree," the officer said, holding on to his cap under the wind. "We can't let you stay here. The Crystal Empire is fast approaching and we can't risk giving you up."

"This is unhonoring!" Seaborg yelled before stomping the ground, causing tremors.

Ponies wobbled, some holding on to anything stable.

Ssome Earth ponies grabbed him and put him down.

Most of the yaks gasped.

"Get moving!" the officer screamed. "I'm helping you get out of this trouble! Look!" He pointed at the stationary train at the end of the tracks, idle in the middle of the grass plain. "Take the train and go!"

Some grumbled, but all of them obeyed, heading their way to the transport.

---

"Me too tight."

"Seat very small."

"Outside too bright! Close lights!"

"Will you stop whining for once?!" the train conductor roared in the aisle separating the train's seats. "He was right about you, but I'm doing the best I can to stay calm!"

The yaks were silent before him.

"You're probably the last free yaks in the world! Can you at least think about that?! That you're the yaks' last hope?!"

The yaks looked at each other.

"What about taking a gander outside?!"

"But outside too bright!" a yak complained.

"Look outside!"

And the yaks looked outside.

More green plains, some of them holding flowers. A few farms and forests in between. Mountains were in the background.

"You're in Equestria now," the conductor said, taking his hat off and showing his short yellow mane. "The Yakyakistan you and I know is gone for the time being. It's better here. At least we're not entirely engulfed in crystals."

That yak stood up and walked to the aisle. "Orange pony disgraced yaks' home country!" He pointed a hoof at him. "Orange pony prepare to face consequences!"

He punched his forehooves inches before the conductor's face.

---

Princess Celestia sat on a chair, sipping a floating cup of tea.

The huge hallway had its ceiling far up, giving ample room for pegasi to fly and even perform aerial tricks in. Tall windows made the landscape not just visible but wholly so as if there was no wall at all. Guards stood at each end of the hall, standing beside immense double doors studded with precious stones and depictions of the two Princesses and the Elements of Harmony—these gems. A red carpet cut through the middle of the room; on a raised platform, where some of that carpet was, rested a round wooden table.

Around the Princess were the yaks in question. They had frazzled and frizzed fur about them.

She put her cup down on the table, making a little dink sound. "I am more than happy to receive you. May I ask who is your representative, considering what happened to Prince Rutherford?"

The rest of the yaks pointed to a certain one of them with horns that had gold rings.

That yak stood up on his seat, the chair creaking under his massive weight. "Me Dubna, Temporary Prince of Yaks."

"Dubna," the Princess repeated in her kind voice, focused on him. "What a lovely name."

He smiled a little.

"Although I'm afraid we must get on to more serious concerns," the Princess said, her face becoming sober as her smile changed into a half-scowl. "You have already received your letter of forgiveness about the train crash you've caused on the way here."

"Orange pony is pony with fault," Dubna said.

"That's not what matters. What matters is that you're here to stand up for the yaks who haven't been taken by the enemy. You have a responsibility on your shoulders, Prince Dubna, and we must work together to hasten the liberation of your companions. Is that clear?"

"As long as Princess pony disallow disgrace like orange pony!" Dubna yelled, standing up on his chair again—it cracked, though not broken yet.

Celestia nodded. "That was uncalled for. However, I've already said what I had to say in the letter, and there is no need of saying those words again. Time is of the essence, and not a moment must be wasted."

Dubna sat down.

Celestia looked at all of the yaks in attendance. "There will be escorts when you leave the room. They will take you to your temporary residences while Yakyakistan is under Crystal control. You may conduct whatever legitimate and legal business you would like to wherever in Equestria, especially if it's for the betterment of your fellow yaks. We'll even allow you to participate in the fighting if you want, but be warned that it won't be easy; you're the only yaks we've seen come here after the war's started."

The yaks nodded.

"Promise me that you will not go on stomping parties or anything of the sort unless you do it in a secluded area."

Dubna nodded.

"Then, this short meeting is over."

Everyone stood up and the yaks talked amongst themselves once again, chatting and gabbing, as they headed for the double doors.

The Princess looked at the cracked chair and sighed. She looked at one of the guards. "May you call in a repairpony to fix this?"

---

Somewhere else in Canterlot, a librarian sat behind a counter inside a very small bookstore; there were only ten bookshelves, five of which were on the walls. It smelled of old pages and some books were already concealed in dust.

A door opened and a bell rang.

The librarian, instead of smiling, gave the cloaked customer an odd look. She wore her eyeglasses. "And, who must you be, ma'am?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, miss," she replied, levitating a book on to the counter and right beside the cash register. "You must be new; haven't seen you before." She cleared her throat. "I need this book."

The librarian read the title on the cover. "'Rivers and Streams'?"

"Why, yes, miss." She brought out some bits.

The librarian took the money, placed it in the register, and hoofed the book which then levitated.

"Bye!"

The cloaked customer left, the book in her grasp.

Comments

[EverfreePony]

8681098
You are welcome and sorry for taking so long to reply.

For training of creative descriptions, I’d say there is no better place than a moderately crowded bus stop. During the years, I have picked up the habit of describing the people around me with what I can see, hear or smell and what I consider defining for them. Applying this to ponies is no big deal then. Might be worth a try, just make sure not to stare too long

[Comma Typer]

8685955
Alrighty, then. Thanks for the tip!